Tale Of A Mermaid
By: Glo Curl
"Ever seen a mermaid, Grandad?" I asked, spluttering crumbs down my vest. We'd spent the morning rock pooling; lunch was cheese and pickle sandwiches, washed down with orange cordial. We were sitting side by side, a threadbare towel serving as a barrier against one of the few patches of sand offered by the shingle beach. This day, as most days, we were the only ones enjoying the peace of the secluded cove.
"Oh yes, princess, a long time ago…" He gazed at a distant yacht skimming eastward.
"Tell me."
"I'm out in the boat, fishing," he began. "All of a sudden I hear a commotion behind me, like something struggling. I turn round, and there she is, flailing about in the water, tangled in a bit of net, like the poor dolphins we see sometimes."
"What did you do?"
"Didn't think twice, princess. Grabbed the hook and pulled her close by. She was feisty though." He chuckled at the memory. "With my cutters I freed her in a jiffy, and off she went with a flick of her tail."
"Did she come back to thank you?" I felt indignant on his behalf. I'd heard stories about mermaids, and good manners rarely featured.
"No, I never saw hide nor hair of her again." Grandad sighed and turned to me. "Feisty and beautiful, just like your Gran was, princess."
In a childish effort to cheer him, I jumped up, clapping my hands. "The tide's coming in, let's go for a paddle!' I shouted. "Race you."
Grandad gamely heaved himself up and gave chase. I was knee deep when it happened. He was splashing towards me, laughing, when he clutched his chest and staggered, falling face down into the shallows. I desperately tried to roll him over, but he was too heavy for a seven year old girl. But a glimpse of his lifeless eyes was enough to tell me that he'd gone. The tide was coming in fast, and I started to panic. "I'm sorry Grandad, I have to get help," I told him, and stumbled back up the beach, sobbing.
I stopped at the path to wipe away my tears and looked back. There was someone with him, gently turning his body. I blinked. The waves were lapping around them, but I swear I saw the flick of a fish's tail, and he was suddenly alone again, floating face up under the warm September sun.
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